


Hawke's Secret Dreams

by CuriouslyIndecisive



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Desire Demons (Dragon Age), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriouslyIndecisive/pseuds/CuriouslyIndecisive
Summary: Hawke, Anders, and Barkspawn are on a family outing, but Hawke wonders if all is really as perfect as it seems.





	Hawke's Secret Dreams

Hawke lay in a hollow in the sea of tall, cool grass. A warm breeze stirred up the many scents of summer and blew them gently across her face. Strands of her own coppery-colored hair danced about in front of her eyes, flashing in the sun against the calm blue sky. She watched clouds roll by for several minutes, and had just begun to feel a touch lonely when she heard Barkspawn digging a hole nearby. Hawke wondered what he might be burying this time. She sat up to find out.

Barkspawn was several meters away, only his hindquarters visible above the grass-line, his stump of a tail wagging happily. “What have you got, boy?” she called. He spun about to face her, muzzle covered in dirt, and bounded over to her while barking a reply. She scratched him about the ears. His face, while happy, seemed a bit softer than she remembered, and she supposed he must just be getting calmer in old age. She did not like to think on it. She scratched him for a few minutes and wondered why they were out in the field alone. Surely if it was was family outing, Anders would have come. As though on cue, she heard him call out. “Love? Where are you?”

Hawke waved her arms about, above her head where he’d see them, as Barkspawn scampered off in Anders’ direction. They returned together less than a minute later. “Hello, love,” he greeted her, flashing his signature grin. Seeing him standing there, his tall frame bordered by picturesque nature, blonde hair dazzling in the sunshine, broad shoulders strong and confident, and that grin she swore he saved just for her, Hawke thought she’d never seen anything so heartbreaking. _Heartbreaking… no, that’s not right. Why would it be heartbreaking?_ she thought. She looked up at him again and he seemed to sense something was wrong. Anders reached down to her, offering a hand, and pulled her up out of the grass. “Worry not, my love, it’s too nice of a day. Shall we have a walk?”

“Alright,” Hawke answered. Anders held onto her hand, and they wandered down toward a lake Hawke hadn’t noticed before. They stood silently at the water’s edge, admiring the statue-still surface of the water, when suddenly there was a rumbling behind them. They spun in time to see Barkspawn burst from the grass and plunge full-tilt into the lake, splashing both of them heavily with water. Hawke began laughing, and turned back to Anders in anticipation of his indignant reaction.

“Barkspawn, you mongrel, I’m going to get you back!” he cried, laughing as he trudged into the water after the dog. Hawke, however, stopped laughing, suddenly chilled despite the bright sun.

“Anders,” she began, “You’re not angry?”

His reply was bewildered. “Why should I be angry?”

Hawke was truly cold now, seeds of panic sprouting in her chest; something wasn’t right. “Because… you’re a cat person. You’re always grumpy with Barkspawn when he’s up to his antics.”

Anders face flashed anger, then resolved into simple confusion. “I’m sorry, love. I thought you’d like me more this way.” He began walking slowly toward her from the water, an apologetic expression on his face.

Hawke looked at him critically. His hair was just a touch _too_ blonde, in fact, and his hands, always roughened and a bit dirty from the clinic, were sparkling clean. She glanced behind him, at Barkspawn, whose coat looked much too smooth and scarless to be the wardog she knew. Hawke began to back away. “You are _not_ Anders,” she hissed, “And that is not Barkspawn.”

“What are you talking about, love? Of course it’s us.” He continued to approach her, arms outstretched, palms up in a gesture of friendliness. Barkspawn had left the lake and was slinking up the hill behind Anders. Hawke racked her brain for a definitive question. She halted her retreat, her face a mask of simple absentmindedness.

“I’m sorry, Anders, you’re right. It’s just… how did we get here? I can’t seem to remember. Did we come with Karl?” Hawke barely had to try to make the discomfort in her voice genuine, with just a touch of fear.

“Yes, love, that’s right. With Karl. This is his field, remember? His house is over the hill. He invited us to stay as long as we like…” Anders’ voice was reassuring, comforting - entirely believable but for the lie he’d just told.

“You’re lying,” Hawke spat, the panic putting a hard edge in her voice. “Karl’s dead. We killed him after he was made Tranquil. You’d know that… if you were really Anders.”

The lookalike Anders froze, a sickening smile twisted his face into a sneer. A voice, laced with poisoned sweetness, slipped from his lips. “Well, well. Aren’t you a clever mage?” Anders’ form burst into a ball of smoke, then reformed into a woman’s shape with slim legs, curvaceous hips, a flat stomach, barely concealed breasts, and an angular face, disdainful and scowling. The eyes were almost completely black, somehow alluring in their darkness. Huge, spiraling horns jutted proudly from her forehead. A long, thin tail flicked side to side. And where there had been beautiful golden hair, her head was now wreathed in purple flame.

“Why do you resist what you want so badly?” the desire demon inquired, her voice a seductive whisper. “Your Anders, free of Justice, no longer bent on vengeance? You can have it, you know; I can make it so. The life you want… it’s here. You need only ask for it.” As she spoke, her words conjured a new Anders from thin air, mist that slowly formed into his familiar shape. His lips a perfect smile, his arms folded confidently across his chest. He stared intensely at Hawke and beckoned her toward him with a hand.

She wanted it, desperately. Hawke had found no way to separate Justice from Anders. Worse, she suspected Anders didn’t even want to be free of him. Their adventure into the Deep Roads and the encounter with Corypheus had been a disaster; Justice had taken over and turned on Hawke, Varric, and Carver. They’d been forced to subdue him physically. Back in Kirkwall, Anders had become even more remote. More than ever before he was aloof, secretive, and he had hopelessly urged Hawke to leave him on a few occasions. She feared she might soon lose him for good; she had no real idea as to why, and even less idea how to stop it.

Hawke realized she was lost in her own head. She found herself crumpled in the grass, crying. She shoved thoughts of Anders, the _real_ Anders, aside and got to her feet. She stared defiantly at the desire demon, who returned her gaze with mocking laughter. “You’d rather be miserable than happy? I never will understand you mortals,” the demon derided.

“I don’t require your understanding,” Hawke jeered, “only your death.” Hawke smothered the desire demon in lightning and ice. It was over quickly, and the demon fell, silenced.

Hawke started awake. She fought to catch her breath and still her pounding heart, but she could not stop her tears. They ran down her face, silently, tiny rivers of pain she could not otherwise express. She was surprised to find Anders still asleep at her side, relieved she had not woken him. Any attempt to explain her distress would have certainly been a dramatic failure.

She lay there quite a while, organizing her thoughts, before drying her face and scooting closer to Anders. She nuzzled her face into his neck and wrapped an arm tightly around him. She found his lips with a hand and traced the lower one gently, trailing a fingertip along his jawline before running her fingers through his hair. He stirred slightly. “Hawke?”

“I love you,” she breathed, meaning it more in that moment than ever before.

“As I love you,” he mumbled sleepily. 

_And that’s enough, for now,_ Hawke thought, before drifting back to sleep.


End file.
